Living as an interviewer, I had the luck to speak with elders who, even in the last quarter of life (ages 75 to 100), never stopped their intellectual explosions or the growth of their character. Three people remain especially in my heart: former Minister of Culture Lee O-ryeong, who represented Korea's intellect; France's great man of letters Pascal Bruckner; and Britain's management thinker Charles Handy.
I spent four seasons with Lee O-ryeong before his death and published an interview book about life and death titled "Lee O-ryeong's last lesson." With Pascal Bruckner and Charles Handy, I exchanged emails so deep they left marks on my soul. From Lee I learned life, from Pascal desire, and from Charles Handy the preciousness of friendship.
In particular, I became an ardent fan after reading Charles Handy's book in the form of letters to his grandchildren, "The questions life asks are always the same." The teachings of this sage, who worked for a long time as an executive at a multinational oil company, are more practical and concrete than those of a man of letters or a philosopher.
As a management thinker, he advised that even in a tumultuous technological era, life's fundamental questions such as "love, fairness, friendship" would not change. He encouraged living a "portfolio life" early and steadily, saying that the only answer to technology and unemployment is various forms of self-employment.
In our last interview together, Charles Handy emphasized that the greatest insight he gained as a management thinker was "friends really matter." His words—that at every treacherous corner, comrades willing to share the risk were waiting like "gifts"—resonated deeply in the world.
To my question, "Do you have no regrets even upon reaching the last quarter of life?" his answer was this.
"Regrets? When I lie in bed, good times in life come to mind. There are countless good things I have enjoyed in this world. Birdsongs, flowers that bloom in spring, the beautiful trees seen outside the window... Joys are the things that can never be counted. Without numbers, it feels truly wonderful. This must be what heaven is like."
Charles Handy, whom Peter Drucker praised as "a person who realized genius-level insight in reality." I had hoped he would remain on earth longer, but I received the news of his passing along with his posthumous work.
I held Charles Handy's posthumous work "Life seen at ninety" to my chest and read it with a lump in my throat.
He celebrated the last time of his life to the fullest in the middle of the fields of rural Norfolk in England. He planted three trees in the garden with his family, and the refrigerator was full of champagne. Even if he could do nothing on his own, he thought he was no different from royalty because a caregiver cooked and gave him his medicine.
When dining with wine, he expressed gratitude for having lived a fortunate life. In his lifetime, his son Scott Handy is said to have marveled at his father like this.
Because the well of wisdom pooled in the twilight years of the world's kindest sage, Charles Handy, was so sweet and refreshing, I planned a posthumous interview to share it with you. This imagined conversation based on his posthumous work "Life seen at ninety" is his farewell greeting to Koreans, and Handy's son Scott Handy conveyed thanks on his father's behalf.
―What is a day at ninety like?
"It's a bit uncomfortable to move because of aftereffects from a stroke, but otherwise I still enjoy life with overflowing zest. It is a fully satisfying life. I apologized for what I did wrong, and I forgave myself for the mistakes I made.
―What advice do you give to those who visit?
"Three things. If they are elderly: "Enjoy life; don't put things off too late." If they are middle-aged: "Help young people lead change, and adopt that change as quickly as possible." If they are young: "Don't forget that sometimes the wrong train takes you to the right destination.""
―Please tell us about your youth.
"After graduating from college, I applied to Shell, a multinational oil company, for a stable life. As she saw me off to my post with a forlorn look, my mother said, "Don't worry. Everything will be material for the books you will write." "Books? I'm going to be rich as an executive at an oil company." Fortunately, my mother knew me better than I knew myself.
While working on the island of Borneo, I bought a heap of American management books and began to read. As I read, I felt I could write much better, and once I did, I thought I was quite a decent writer. I added my harrowing mistakes to management theory and argued that "it's far better to learn from others' mistakes than from your own." The book, surprisingly, succeeded, and thus I became a writer.
I had hoped the train I boarded would take me to Shell, but that train took me to Penguin and the BBC. I also tell my grandchildren, "If there's a train that looks interesting to your eyes, just get on and see where it takes you.""
―When did you feel a sense of liberation?
"It was around when I turned thirty-three. I discovered I was going bald. One day, my forthright neighbor said, "Charles, you know you're bald, right? We all know it. That's nothing to be ashamed of. But pretending you're not bald by covering it with a comb-over is shameful. Go around as your honest self. You'll feel an immense sense of liberation."
The elderly lady hit the nail on the head, so I went to the barbershop and had it all cut off. Honestly, life became so much easier. With no need to dry hair, a towel would do and the sunlight finished the job. It also shortened the time to get ready for the day. I no longer needed to pretend to be someone other than myself.
Aristotle's first virtue was truth. When you tell the truth, you feel liberated and your vision becomes clearer."
―What is beauty?
"Truth is beauty and beauty is truth. Mathematicians say a short equation is beautiful when it contains the order of the universe. Carpenters look at the joints in wood and say it is "tight and true." I feel truth and beauty when I find the apt metaphor. When everything fits well and works properly, that is beauty."
―What did you teach management students when you were a professor?
"Even if you are convinced you are right, acknowledge publicly, as much as possible, that you could be wrong. If you do, you become more likable and more trustworthy. I also hoped students would realize that the essence of good management is, in the end, common sense."
―What advice would you give to a young person ahead of an interview?
"How about getting the interviewer to talk more? Prepare questions and keep asking. Research shows that the more interviewers talk, the more favorably the interviewee is evaluated. In a similar vein, if you're invited to a dinner, ask the person next to you, "Could you tell me what you think about 00?" I guarantee your likability will go up three or four times."
―What did you respect about your wife?
"Whether buying a house or choosing a restaurant, I respected my wife's intuition. Whenever she sensed the atmosphere of a house or restaurant and said, "It's not great. This isn't the house. I don't want to eat here," I followed her lead and left. My wife was someone who, even amid uncertainty, had the ability to detect both disaster and warmth."
―Can ill fortune be turned into good fortune?
"Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity. The more you practice, the luckier you get. When I worked at Shell, the oil company, I used to run simulations to anticipate and respond to crises. For instance, we prepared very meticulously for how to respond if a catastrophe like political collapse in the Middle East occurred.
It is the same in life. Long ago, I considered the possibility that one of us might become disabled and decided to create a personal care space in our home. Now I live there very comfortably. If you have contingency plans, you can endure when disaster strikes. If you prepare properly, luck is given."
―What is needed for life to be sustained even in disaster?
"In Italian village squares, you can easily see men and women engaged in heated debate. Politics? No. They're talking about what to have for Sunday lunch. What life needs to run properly is the 3 Fs: family, friends, food. If these three are well maintained, life goes on no matter what happens."
―In a world as volatile as today's, which corporations will thrive and which will decline?
"If you are a leader, leave alone those in the organization who dream of something new. For corporations to survive, they must have a purpose beyond survival. Corporations that pursue only profit are bound to fail.
If corporations or people are selfish, they won't last long. That's because, implicitly, we know we are one another's safety net of existence.
If there is a culture of mistreating low-ranking employees, that corporation is in danger. No matter how low the rank, anyone can throw a spanner in the works and disrupt the flow. Do not forget that even someone seemingly insignificant can wield great influence."
―You said the most important thing in life is friends. Has that view changed?
"Not at all. For several years after my stroke, I was effectively confined to a single room. My own apartment was a comfortable prison. What I realized during that time is that to exist as myself, I need friends who know me well."
―What does a good friend look like?
"A good friend is someone who knows all your flaws and still wants to have lunch with you. If you have friends who know each other's birthdays and children and can share the past and the future, you can be proud you've lived a successful life. Have lunch with that friend at least once a month. Seven true friends or fewer are enough. Even the best team—family—is a team bound by friendship."
―Who was your best friend?
"Of course, my wife, Elizabeth. My wife was a master of friendship. She tended to friendship with water and nourishment, treating it as precious. The greatest compliment I received from my wife was also, "You are my best friend.""
―You renewed your marriage contract several times. The first was when, at fifty, you retired from your job and became an independent speaker, and your wife acted as your agency. The second was when, at fifty, your wife began full-time work as a photographer, and you became her helper. For 20 years, at six-month intervals, the two of you alternated focusing entirely on supporting the other. That is astonishing. How was such a kind and fair private life possible?
"It's possible if you work at it. Separate spaces were also important to maintaining balance. For a harmonious marriage, my wife said one bed is enough, but we need two bathrooms, two studios, and two studies, and she was right. Because we had our own spaces, we could exist as ourselves.
In the third period, from age seventy-five until my wife died, we volunteered together. We invited those in need to breakfast and shared our time. Relationships last when the other side gains as much as I do. Fairness is what lasts. That rule is important in business and politics too. The chances of reaching an agreement grow when both sides feel they have won."
―Words like agreement and negotiation feel increasingly difficult.
"I hope you can spend your time without having to engage in many grueling negotiations. But if you find yourself in a dispute over interests with someone, make them feel they are getting as much as you are. If you can't trust the other party, it's because they haven't gotten enough. In that case, give more. Good luck."
―As a management thinker, how do you see the future of work? The world is noisy these days with expectations and fears about AI.
"It takes 30 years for a new technology to become everyday. In a full-fledged AI era, many humans will become IAs (Individual Assistant, a personal aide powered by AI). Some say the human role will be confined to the 3 Cs—Creatives, Carers, and Custodians.
Whichever category you fall into, the answer to technology and unemployment is various forms of self-employment. For work to continue, its form must change. Forty years ago, when unemployment was as high as it is now, I published a book titled "The future of work." I argued that "jobs are not sufficient, but there is still a mountain of work that needs doing in the world." We must find that work ourselves and each start a small enterprise.
Buoyed by my wife's encouragement, I put things into practice one by one. I gave up salary and a company house and set out as a freelance writer and lecturer. Few jobs are as precarious as those of a freelance writer or actor. But in the end I became satisfied with my profession and earned far more money than the salary I had received at Shell. So I would like to urge you to try flying solo at least once."
―Even though the economy is worsening and the industry is in a deep freeze?
"You'll struggle for a while. I did too. But once you try, you find the weather isn't as cold as it looks. Life without a boss is quite enjoyable as well. However, if you're over forty, it's best to pay off your mortgage loan before takeoff."
―What should we do about the loneliness and laziness we face when working from home?
"I learned the knack of working from home from my father-in-law. One day, my father-in-law, a retired colonel, came by, and after we had lunch and I was about to get up, he asked, "Surely you're not planning to work in the afternoon, are you?"
He said that in the army, they wake early and finish all the day's work, including drills, in the morning. At lunch they have two cocktails, in the afternoon they enjoy sports, and in the evening they socialize at the officers' club.
So I decided to try that approach. I worked with focus in the morning, had a light drink at lunchtime, exercised in the afternoon, and socialized in the evening. I recommend this reasonable method for a balanced life to you as well."
―What did you learn from your father?
""Always open the door when the front bell rings. Someone may have come because they need help." Those are my father's words I still remember."
―How did you raise your children?
"I especially remember walking alone along country roads in Ireland to go home from school when I was about ten. I had a faint sense my father was following behind on a bicycle, but in any case I did it alone, and when I got home a special cake was set out.
That experience became a template. When I became a parent and raised my children, I encouraged them to decide on their own, and every time they did, I gave them special tea and cake. It was the same when they dated, found jobs, and became novice parents. I was dying to give advice, but I tried to refrain from interfering. Our one principle as a couple was this: "Never give advice unless asked."
Taking responsibility is important to growth, and we tried to refrain from usurping that decision-making, which is highly immoral."
―When did you feel deeply rewarded?
"Once, I received a letter at my country cottage. In clumsy handwriting, it had just one sentence: "Professor Charles Handy, thank you very much." Thanks to that, I felt as happy as if I could fly all day.
The late Queen Elizabeth is said to have always mentioned people's names carefully and expressed thanks when awarding honors at Buckingham Palace. The most resonant word in the world is thank you. If possible, be sure to mention the name."
―Did you have joyful times with your family?
"The children are a joy to be with. They do their own work well. They are also remarkable at caring for me as if I were a newly adopted child. I did nothing, but I think the greatest success in my life is that my children grew up well. My wife put my life in orderly shape."
―What do you do first when you open your eyes in the morning?
"I shout out loud. "Oh! What a wonderful day." Then I rejoice and laugh heartily. Looking at my face in the mirror, I speak to it. "Hey, old fellow. You've been through it all. How fortunate that you're still alive."
―Lastly, please bid farewell to the God you will soon meet and to the people of the world you will part from.
"I am now living in the middle of the fields of rural Norfolk in England. I get up when the sun rises and go to bed when the sun sets. I suffer all kinds of foul weather, but I truly love this home. Before long, I will leave this world. I would be truly grateful if you would help me.
Everything ends someday. Walnut trees, good things, bad things, my wife, and others—everything is the same. Now I bid farewell. Enjoy to the fullest the time given to you, that special time when everything draws to a close. May you, like me, return having reveled in abundant friendship!"